My Angel in Shining Armor
by Katgirl1236
Summary: Set during the Hundred Year War and England has been noticing France acting differently. France is unsure about his own heart and can't help having strong feelings towards the girl saving his country, his people, and himself. Although she is the one defeating his lover. Bad Summary. FrUK, France/Joan D'Arc


**_A/N: As I'm sure most of you guys have done, you have given characters to your group of friends! 99% of anime lovers have, I am in one of those types of groups. I am France and my best frenemy is England (really awkward when I started to support FrUK) , so naturally we argue and bicker. On more than on occasion he has brought up Joan, after which I proceed to hit him and give him the silent treatment. I realized every time someone mentions Joan D'Arc I get angry (Frozen for example), but I have never written a fanfic for her and France. It won't be historically accurate though, but here it is:_**

* * *

The weary warrior took off her helmet and set it beside her onto the cobblestone floor. Kneeling, as her chain mail clinked, she brought her hands up. She silently prayed in thanks to the cross before her. Without you, God, this victory wouldn't of been possible. I will continue to protect this country, in your name. Thank you, my one and only Lord. Amen. She picked her helmet back up and stood, heading out of the church.

She hadn't gotten far from the church before she heard her name called. As she turned to see who it is, a man pulled her into a hug and she dropped her helmet.

"Joan! Thank goodness you are safe!" He put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arms length. He studied her short blonde hair and her tattered appearance. "Are you hurt? Why have you not gone to the healers?" He asked numerous questions and she smiled.

"Mr. Bonnefoy, I am quite alright. Besides, you know I go to the church, before and after a battle. Please stop worrying!" She received her helmet and hung it over the pommel of the sword on her side. She looked back at the blonde man, giggling slightly, but he scowled.

"I have told you not to call me that! My name is Francis!"

"Bu-" She started but was interrupted.

"No 'but's! You are defending the country of France, which in turn, is also defending me! Call me by my first name." France added the last sentence gently, putting a hand against her cheek, wiping a smudge of dirt from her face with his thumb. She lent into his hand, looking into his eyes.

"Fine, Francis." She said and he smiled, but she stood up straighter. She had been gone for too long and had to get back.

"You have to go, don't you?" He asked softly, removing his hand. Joan nodded and he pulled her into a tight hug. "Please be safe."

"I will try Mr- Francis." Joan backed away before trotting off towards the camp that the army was currently resting at. France watched her go and only moved after her shining armor went into a tent.

* * *

"Looks like you won that battle, Frog." England glared at the Frenchman. France took a sip of his tea before returning it to the table.

"I thought we wouldn't mention the war in the house, _Angleterre_. I don't act hostile towards you when you win battles, even if I am in immense pain." He said, angrily. They had been trying to make their relationship work through this war, but both could tell that it was hard. They could not blame their generals, nor the people who fought for them. Having no one to blame for the warriors' deaths was taxing on both England and France.

"Right, sorry." England said, sheepishly. He realizes that France suffers more at a loss than himself. He reached and placed a hand on France's. France smiled at the Englishman, turning his hand over and holding his hand.

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly, noticing that England was paler than usual. England brought his hand back, crossing his arms and scowling.

"I'm perfectly fine! I'm not that weak you, git!" He hissed towards the other man. France smiled and stood up, going over and quickly placing a kiss on England's lips.

"Of course not, _mon lapin._" He chuckled and headed upstairs, leaving a blushing Englishman at the table.

"You can't just kiss me and leave! Just who do you think you are!" England sputtered and ran after him.

* * *

**_*Le time skip~*_**

"Joan! _Mon dieu_!" France kneeled beside the cot, his heart momentarily stopping. She had many cuts on her and a severe one on her arm, hastily wrapped with a cloth ripped from her pant leg. Joan opened her eyes and smiled, the movement seeming to take all her strength.

"Francis," She breathed, wearily. "We won, although they haven't let me pray properly at the church, will you please tell Him?" Francis nodded, eyes tearing up a little. He put his hand over her's that was at the edge of the cot.

"Of course, it is the least I can do. I will tell Him in my prayers till you can yourself. Please, rest now." He placed a thankful kiss on her forehead and she closed her eyes.

"M'kay." She seemed to be drifting off, but opened her eyes slowly. "Francis?"

"Yes?"

"_Je t'aime_" She whispered as two knights gently lifted her cot and took her into the healer's tent, leaving Francis staring at where she was. He wordlessly got up, his hand over his heart as he stumbled back home.

_She loves me?_

* * *

"Francis! Are you even listening?" England said, snapping France out of his memories. England looked at the man, curiously. Ever since he had gotten home, he has been acting different.

"I'm sorry, what?" France asked, and taking a bite from his meal. England pushed his thoughts aside and went back to the conversation.

"I said that ever since Joan has been leading your army, you have been winning more battles." England said, casually but it has been infuriating him to no end. His empire was being beaten by a woman. It made no sense!

France tensed up as he said her name, "Je t'aime", ringing in his ears. He took a sip of his wine, hoping it would settle his nerves and his racing heart. "She says she has been sent by God Himself, to protect my country."

"'Sent by God?' Yes, that sounds completely possible." He said sarcastically. "She just has too much knowledge of a man's work." England scoffs and France couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. He stood up from the table, scowling as he walked over to put his dishes onto the counter. England looked at France, shocked. He got up and placed a hand on the Frenchman's shoulder. "Francis?"

"I'm going to turn in for the night." France said, staring at his feet and refusing to look at England. He rushed to his room and changed for bed, pretending to be asleep when England got into bed beside him. Only when he heard the Brit's steady breathing did he turn and look at his sleeping face. Joan's words repeated once again and felt his heart dropping into his stomach.

_Do I love her?_

* * *

** I was only going to make this one chapter, but it looks like this will be a two chapter story. Sorry I made England sound like such a jerk. France is not cheating on England (yet?), sorry if you got that impression! France is a loving guy and there is a beautiful girl defending his country! Of course he is gonna act that way! Anyways, thanks for reading, many Skittles to you! I always appreciate follows, favs, and reviews! **

**Au revoir~**


End file.
